The Favorite
by TheRecorder
Summary: He had been his most favorite pet. Godstiel/Dean


**I was chatting with a good buddy of mine and the subject of defeated foes came up. This is what came of it. For the sake of ease, let's assume Leviathans are not yet an issue at this point. I only make one Genius Bonus reference to them anyways...**

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><p>Dean glowered at the floor in front of him, trying to pry even one fingertip off the ground. Both hands were splayed before him, just far enough in front of his knees that his neck ached to lift his head for too long. It wasn't prostration, no, more like preventing him from using weapons, like he was about to be arrested.<p>

The situation certainly was putting him into arrest of a kind.

He looked to his right, to where Sam was in a similar position, hands in front of him at the same distance. A thread of resentment passed through Dean over the fact Sam's gargantuan stature put him at a more comfortable crouch. It was just over a foot of distance from their knees to their hands, but it made all the difference between kneeling and full vulnerability.

Dean's hands stayed stuck to the floor.

"You were always my favorite pets."

If Dean could curl his fingers, he would.

"Not even Crowley was as…interesting for me."

"Frustrating is the word you're looking for, Cas-tiel," Dean quickly tagged the last two syllables onto the nickname.

A frown.

He preferred Dean call him Cas. Dean knew it.

"Frustrating…yes," the words came out with a slight tartness, "That is a word that applied at times."

To Dean's dismay, he walked closer and reached down to grasp Dean's chin, lifting it.

"But," his eyes were contemplative and triumphant at the same time, "I was fond of you all the same."

"Was?" Dean challenged, neck aching at the angle it was held.

"You were my favorite, Dean. Sam was my friend, but _you_ were special."

"I thought we were your pets, Castiel."

"Dog is to man as you were to me," he answered easily.

Dean gritted his teeth angrily. Blue eyes narrowed with a smirk.

"I have special plans for you, Dean." He wrenched Dean's head up even higher and it hurt. He glanced over at Sam.

"You may snarl at me in your mind all you want, but your brother is _mine_," he told Sam and his fingers dug into the sides of Dean's face possessively.

This wasn't looking good. He returned his gaze to Dean who tried to conceal his pain as best he could, "Your brother is disobedient," he informed him, "he may have to be punished."

"He is just defending me. I'm the one you want. Punish me," there was a mechanical ring to the words because they were the script, what the jumped-up angel wanted hear, the all but pre-rehearsed response to his threats. Dean knew it and knew he would do it anyways.

"Dean!" Sam hissed but the angel grinned.

"I intend to. Right here. If the need arises."

With Sam watching. That hadn't exactly been what Dean was hoping for, not with where the conversation had been going, what the new god had been implying.

He rested his free hand on Dean's head, "Do you swear to give yourself over wholly to the service of God and His angels?"

"Don't recall God being around."

"Dean."

Dean closed his eyes. It would have been better if the guy had just plowed into the foreplay. Heh, maybe he was. 'Service', huh?

"Dean, don't-"

Sam's words cut off too quickly for him to be anything other than forcibly silenced.

Dean was going to be Cas's bitch one way or another. Might as well make it official.

"I give myself over wholly to the service of you and your angels."

A wide smile. Ah, that was right. Not Cas's bitch. _Castiel's_ bitch.

Dean's heart sank as the angel looked over to Sam.

"And Sam. Do you pledge to give yourself wholly to the service of me and my angels?"

"No, keep him out of this!" Dean cried. The god's eyes flicked back to him.

Castiel leaned close, lips nearly brushing Dean's, "You know as well as I if I let him go, he will come back. I can't be bothered dealing with that."

Not 'I can't afford that'. 'I can't be bothered with that'.

"Sam?" Castiel said, not moving his gaze from Dean.

Sam seemed like he was going to refuse to speak even now that he had apparently been given back the ability to do so.

Castiel leaned away and looked at Sam. Sam stared back at him, angry and furiously resigned.

"I…give myself over wholly to the service of you and your angels."

Castiel chuckled, Dean flinched.

"Good. If you should disobey, either of you," Castiel released Dean and stood, walking over to Sam.

He placed a hand on Sam's forehead, "There will be punishment."

Sam screamed and collapsed, hands still adhered to the floor, causing him to slump.

"Sam!"

"I adjusted a wall," Castiel explained and Dean scowled at the wording, like the wall was some kind of hatch to be opened and closed, "Misbehave and he experiences the Cage all over again."

"You son of a-"

"Dean," Castiel said softly, so softly and Dean bit off his snarl.

Castiel walked to the other side of the room and shrugged off his trench coat, depositing it unceremoniously onto the ground. He turned back to them. Sam was recovering, lifting his head to glare acidly at the former angel.

"A god must look presentable," Castiel declared and laid his eyes on Dean, who found himself free from the invisible bonds that had held him.

Castiel gazed at him expectantly and Dean understood all at once.

He clenched his fists, "You're gonna ruin one of the good memories I had of Cas?"

"I am Cas," Castiel said, voice edged with annoyance and a tinge of anger. Dean didn't dare risk his wrath on Sam. He stood and walked up to Castiel.

Castiel smiled condescendingly as Dean angrily buttoned the former angel's top shirt button. Dean's face was contorted with fury and disgust as he straightened Castiel's tie so that it lay neat and straight.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean successfully resisted the urge to spit in his face, but the sharp look Castiel sent him told him he had caught the thought nonetheless.

"Jehoel."

An angel appeared at Castiel's side.

"Take Sam Winchester to where we are keeping the others," he instructed.

"Yes, Almighty."

Dean felt sick as the angel and Sam disappeared. So Castiel really was some kind of twisted god now.

And 'the others'. He had hoped Bobby and everyone else had escaped. Apparently not. Just where were they being held? Could Sam help them break out?

The feeling of soft fingertips on his face startled him from his thoughts and Dean stiffened under Castiel's hands.

He realized they were alone.

"You could be an angel, Dean, my most beloved angel," Castiel said quietly, fingers brushing Dean's cheekbone.

"Because that went so well with the last God," Dean retorted automatically.

Castiel looked like he was actually saddened at the thought, "I know. That's why you will be my most beloved man."

It sounded too much like a come-on to ignore.

Dean took a step back.

It didn't work as he had hoped it would.

Castiel allowed him to move, but his hand moved from his cheek to his collar. Dean edged farther away and Castiel glided his hand down to Dean's right shoulder.

Before Dean could retreat another step, Castiel grasped the other shoulder firmly.

Dean let out a cry and felt his legs give out beneath him, but Castiel caught him, holding him up by shoulder and scar. It hurt so much. What was happening? What was the angel doing to him? It was like he was being burned all over again. Suddenly, his scar stopped searing and faded to a mere throb.

"What'd…"

"I strengthened the preexisting bond. I marked you even more deeply. Anyone with a hint of power will now be able to see my claim upon you."

Claim.

Well, Dean thought bitterly, at least it hadn't involved sex.

"It could."

Dean tore himself from Castiel's grasp so fast he stumbled and fell on his ass. Castiel stared down at him matter-of-factly.

Dean shoved his panic at the statement deep, deep down and Castiel still saw every last scrap of it within him.

He stepped towards Dean and Dean forced himself not to scramble back.

Castiel crouched down in front of him, staring unwaveringly.

"I could command it. You would have to obey or allow Sam to suffer the consequences."

Dean swallowed and immediately hated himself for being so damn weak, even as part of him barked that this wasn't being weak, not in this situation; this was incredibly justifiable dread.

Castiel edged closer and Dean held his ground despite his instincts telling him to run.

Castiel brushed his fingers along Dean's shin idly, touching the denim with the very tips of his fingers.

"You are, after all, my most beloved human."

His fingers trailed near Dean's calf and Dean tensed.

"Can you not?" he muttered quickly.

It was sickening that he had to resort to asking the man who had once been his best friend not to rape him. It was horrifying that his voice shook when he did; he was more afraid than he had realized.

It frightened him more when he acknowledged that he had _every_ _single_ _right_ to be terrified.

Castiel didn't answer Dean's plea, just watched his own fingers inch higher on the side of his captive's calf.

"_Please_."

Castiel's fingers paused and after a moment, lifted from Dean's leg.

Dean tried to rein in his sigh of relief. Good. He managed to persuade the once-angel from –he sucked the air back in instantly when Castiel grabbed the underside of his calf, eyes burning harshly into his own.

"Make no mistake, Dean Winchester, you are _mine_. When the urge strikes me, I _will_ use you as I desire."

The "yes" was forced from his throat, but it came out without quivering and Dean was now determined not to let his voice tremble in Castiel's presence, ever.

Castiel let him go and stood.

"I have duties to tend to. An angel will come for you and take you to my throne room. Wait for me there."

Castiel disappeared. Dean stared at where he had been, mind screaming incoherently at how everything had gone to shit. An angel appeared and Dean stared up at him. The angel waited for him to stand and reached out, whisking Dean away. Dean's heart stuttered at what Castiel's throne room was.

Two benches.

A park.

Where Cas had admitted to having doubts.

To the side, a lake and a dock.

Dean's most peaceful dream.

He looked to the park's parking lot.

One car.

A '67 black Chevy Impala.

Home.

Cas was still inside that bastard and the thought made Dean want to cry.


End file.
